Randy Has a Bad Day
by The Next Mrs. Copeland
Summary: Randy Orton lives a charmed life, until he makes an unsuccessful move on his best friend's girlfriend, Veronica. Now everything seems to going horribly wrong. But doesn't Randy always get what he wants? Orton/OC/Cena
1. I Always Get What I Want

**Author's Note: This story is written completely for my sister at her request. If it was up to me, trust me, there would be no Cena involved. This was started quite a while ago, but she still wants me to continue it even though she is no longer a Cena fan (Thank God!). If you're like me and you've "Cena 'nuff" you will still enjoy this story, because it's really all about Randy.**

Randy Orton sat, feet crossed, in front of Vince and Stephanie McMahon in their makeshift office of the night. He was already in his very revealing tights and self-promoting t-shirt, and he couldn't help but wonder why they had decided to hold this emergency meeting an hour and a half before the start of Raw.

"Look Randy, as you've probably noticed, you've been losing some of your heel heat now that John Cena is back on Raw. As hard as we've tried, we can't stop some of the crowd from wanting you to beat Cena and retain your championship" Vince began. Randy gripped his title belt tighter, hoping this conversation wouldn't lead to the end of his reign as champion.

Stephanie picked up where her father left off with "So, we've decided we need to increase your heat with the fans by bringing in a manager."

"A manager?! I'm perfectly fine on the mic by myself Stephanie."

"Hold on Randy, let me finish. We're going to have Felix betray John to help you retain the title, and have the two of you start a romantic angle. And since a lot of the fans know about your close friendship with John outside of the ring and your brand new baby, this could have a big reaction with the fans that have been cheering for you recently."

Randy quietly thought about it for a moment before asking "Isn't this a lot like the whole Edge and Lita thing a few years ago? I mean, they even kinda look the same."

Vince decided to answer this time. "I won't say we weren't inspired by the huge amount of heat the whole thing got Adam, but the difference for one is that it's not a real life situation. Besides, we are looking at more of a dominant power couple relationship since both of you are champions. If you'll agree to it, I think this could turn a lot of fans against you and get John some much needed sympathy."

Randy smirked at the idea of making John look like a chump on T.V., and nodded his head. "Sounds good. Vince, Stephanie. In fact, I think it's just what I need." He shook both of their hands before exiting the room, nearly bumping into the subject of their conversation—the very beautiful ginger-haired Women's Champion, Veronica "Felix" Harris.

She brushed past him and entered the makeshift office, as Randy spun around to watch her go. Mmmm…he definitely wasn't going to mind this storyline at all.

In fact, he had been thinking a lot lately about his best friend's valet, and he knew there were three reasons why he found he couldn't get the newest women's champ off his mind: 1. She had red hair. There's just something about a redhead that drives every man crazy, especially a true redhead like Veronica. They're rare, unable to be ignored, and devastatingly mysterious. 2. She was **barely** 18, just legally within his grasp. Perhaps it was the dirty old man in him, but he suddenly realized Joe Francis knew what he was doing making all of those Girls Gone Wild videos. And 3. She and John had gotten very close over the last few months. There's nothing like forbidden fruit to drive a man crazy. So, she was his best friend's newest arm candy. So what?! He's Randy Orton, damn it!

It was around this time that the door opened and the object of his desire came storming out of the room, landing right in his arms. She shoved him back, stepped out of his grasp, and looked him straight in the eyes. She definitely didn't look as ecstatic as Randy would have liked.

He smiled, turning on the Orton charm, and began speaking. "So, it looks like you heard about our newest storyline, huh? You know, I think it will be a good push for both of us. It shows how much they think of your skills Veronica; they're already letting you be a heel in a main event storyline and remain women's champion." A little flattery couldn't hurt, could it?

He saw her face soften a little at this, and she laughed "Thanks. It will be pretty fun to make John look like an idiot too."

"Exactly my thoughts, actually" he paused, as they both realized how close they had gotten, before he decided to get to the point of the conversation. "I hope you know that this isn't going to be _**just **_a storyline, if you know what I mean…"

"I'm not sure your wife would appreciate that Randy." She stepped back after that verbal slap in the face and dared to smirk up at him. "Besides…I'm not really interested."

Not interested?!! What?!! "Look, it's not about what she wants or about what you want—it's about what I want!" And then he leaned in close, restraining his anger to growl, ruthlessly seductive, into her ear "**And I always get what I want…**" before confidently walking away, leaving the Diva shocked and confused.


	2. Twice? Inconceivable!

It was that confidence that led him through the rest of the night, despite spotting Veronica and John looking very cozy backstage. After wrestling a fairly good match but selling the loss to John at the end, and reluctantly agreeing to hit the local dive with the others, Randy was ready to try a second time to walk away with the girl.

He leaned against the greasy bar and watched as John and Veronica, sitting very comfortably on Cena's lap, laughed at Jericho doing some kind of magic trick with the salt shaker. How old are they, twelve? He was too cool for that kind of thing, unless it involved making one of his coworkers look like an idiot. Of course, that had gotten him in trouble more than once, and he knew it was one of the reasons getting into Veronica's pants was proving to be so difficult. He realized now he probably should have never done that to her luggage…but he was only human, what could you expect?

Jericho took his one man show on the road toward a table full of Divas, and John excused himself to take a piss. Now was his chance. Randy downed one last shot of liquid courage and began stalking his prey. He slipped stealthily into the seat next to Felix and slid his muscled arm around her shoulder. "So, have you thought about what we were talking about earlier?"

"Of course I have Randy, how could I not think about you?" she whispered breathily.

She didn't pull away, and Orton took this as the opportunity to continue his assault. He began softly kissing the side of her exposed neck, his hot breath teasing her soft flesh, his eyes scanning the horizon to make sure John hadn't come out of the bathroom. "And did you make a decision? Are you going to come willingly, or am I going to have to change your mind?"

"Mmmm…" she moaned softly. He had her right where he wanted her. He felt himself harden at the thought as she edged closer, melting into his arms. God, she smelled good.

"I don't think you're going to change my mind Orton!" she said abruptly, jamming her palm into his overexcited groin as she stood up and skipped over to his pal John Cena, laughing all the way. Cena picked her up, crushing her in those massive arms of his, grinning as he escorted her toward the exit.

Randy Orton stood up quickly in anger, slack-jawed with shock, before collapsing into a heap of pain. Had that just happened? Had she really turned down Randy Orton, the Legend Killer, the World Heavyweight Champion, twice in one night? Inconceivable!


	3. Major Changes and Mysterious Calls

He awoke the next morning to an annoying buzzing in his ears: his cell phone vibrating against the nightstand. The only person who would dare call him this early in the morning was Stephanie McMahon-Levesque, so this couldn't be good news. He managed to press the green button before it went to voicemail, struggling to answer "uhh…hell…lo?" through his post-drunken stupor.

"Hello, Randy? This is Stephanie McMahon-Levesque." Duh, who else? Why so formal at 8 o'clock in the morning? "I've got some bad news Randy. Last night's ratings are in, and we've decided to make some major changes. I'm sorry, but it looks like you just aren't keeping up with the natural charisma of John and Chris. We're going to have to have you drop the title and move to ECW in the following weeks."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Randy Orton is a 3rd generation superstar, thank you! He doesn't belong on ECW! "Wait, Stephanie, can't we talk about this! I mean, the C show? Really?"

"No, decisions have already been made. We will transfer you over to a storyline with Michelle McCool, and perhaps in a few months we'll give you a run with the ECW Championship. Look, why don't you come down to Smackdown and ECW tonight, get a better feel for them, and we'll further discuss your future with the WWE." With that, Stephanie McMahon hung up the phone, and Randy Orton felt his whole world begin to fall apart.

It was more than his fragile little mind could handle. It all kept rolling around in his hung-over brain: **Michelle McUgly?** Her inability to either wrestle or act well was not going to help his cause. Plus she has the personality of a shiny new doorknob! **No World Heavyweight Championship?** He'd spent his whole life working for that thing. He thought he was doing a pretty good job being the champ. **E C Fucking W? Really? **He thought he was more valuable to the company than that! For one, he could actually wrestle. On top of that, all the ladies clearly love him. **What were Vince and Stephanie thinking?**

While that little tirade stormed through his tired brain, Randy managed to stumble in the shower, get dressed, and make his way down to the café in the lobby to get some breakfast. What do you know? There was the last person he wanted to see!

Veronica sat at one of the farthest tables from the entrance, deep in conversation on her cell phone. He snuck closer, curiously eavesdropping.

"Are we still on for tonight? You know, _**after **_the show? What's your room number?" she asked the mystery person on the other end, and she grinned from ear to ear at their response.

"Oh, I hope you know you'll be going down tonight Adam." Wait! Adam…Adam Copeland? So, she wasn't willing to fuck _**him**_ behind John's back, but she sound pretty eager to fuck Edge?! It wasn't like Adam was single anymore either, at least as far as he had heard.

"Why? Because I'm always on top, that's why! I'm just that good at pushing all the right buttons." Whoa…he didn't really want to hear the rest of this conversation, and luckily his coffee was ready too. As he walked away he could faintly hear "Oh, come on Adam, just do it already!" and he kept right on walking, shaking his head in confusion.

From there he bumped into John, presumably on his way to meet Veronica in the coffee shop. He almost wanted to break the news about Veronica and Adam, but his own selfish hope of nailing her was still stuck in his brain.

"What's up? What are you doin' today?" were the words of the ignorantly blissful Dr. of Thuganomics.

"I'm going to ECW tonight. I'm…umm…getting moved there" Randy confessed reluctantly. John was surprised, of course, and Randy explained the whole thing to his friend, only leaving out his interactions with Veronica.

"Hey dude, sorry to hear it. I'm gonna miss hanging out this much. Ronni has a match with Natalya tonight too, if you want to ride over there with us. It's less than an hour away, but what's the point of riding by yourself if we're all just coming back here, huh?"

Randy nodded in agreement and John continued on his way, leaving him to his still troubling thoughts.


	4. Apache Helicopters

By the time 4 o'clock came along, Randy had just about made peace with his hopefully short stint on ECW. He met John and Veronica in the lobby, the two of them exiting the elevator together, holding hands and laughing as usual. They had elected to take John's rental, a Lincoln Town Car, which had enough room so the three of them didn't feel annoyingly squished.

Veronica quickly dove into the passenger seat, and since John had the keys and could only smirk stupidly about the whole thing, Randy knew he would have to sit in the back. "Oh, shit. Fuck you two!" They only laughed, and he chose to sit behind Veronica, hoping that she would at least give him a little more leg room. He should have known better though, she still wasn't happy with him and decided to take it out on his legs by adjusting her seat back as far as it could go and propping her feet on the dash.

And it only got worse from there. Randy could handle John swallowing her tiny little hand in his monstrous paw, but it didn't stop there. Of course, he couldn't just hold her hand; he had to stroke it, softly at first, with his thumb. From there, somehow, John's hand strayed to rest on her thigh, where it looked altogether too comfortable in Randy's opinion.

When they hit a stoplight, Cena couldn't resist leaning over and pressing an "innocent" little kiss on her lips, which trailed down her delicious neck, which would have went even farther if the light hadn't turned green. And Randy was sure Veronica was looking straight at him, smirking, mocking him in the mirror. It must have been his overeager imagination, however, as her attention seemed to be fixed on John, who was singing along with Taylor Swift on the radio.

"Alright, I can't take it anymore!" she laughed, "I have to put on some good music!" She proceeded to reach into the backseat to get the leather CD case. In the process, and rather unnecessarily Randy noticed, Veronica allowed her perfectly round, perfectly natural breasts to press seductively against the center console. They were completely open to his gaze, practically begging him to grab a handful of that soft flesh.

_**Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day! Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day! Oh God, what did Margaret Thatcher look like? Damn it, he should have paid more attention in history!**_ That familiar feeling crept into his groin as he frantically willed his body to not get a hard-on right in front of her and John. But, alas, his efforts were to no avail, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

She sat up and turned her attention to choosing a CD, but not before he swore he saw her wink! Was she tormenting him on purpose?

Before long she chose a CD and slid it into the player. The sound built, and it was the unmistakable opening of John Cena's own album. "Oh, hell no! We are NOT listening to this stupid crap again!" Randy complained loudly.

But the couple completely ignored him as Veronica skipped to the second to the last song. They both sang along, as annoyingly as possible at the top of their lungs "_**I'M RAININ' FIRE LIKE APACHE HELICOPTERS!**_"

At least it was enough to distract him from the tantalizing image of two exquisitely-formed breasts filling his hands. Their obnoxious duet continued until they finally reached the arena, but their stupidity only increased as they skipped arm in arm to the back door of the stadium. Worst of all, they had forgotten all about poor Randy.


End file.
